the game is getting very good scores ( IGN gave it a 9.0), i really want to try it out, but my PS3 is pretty much dead and i dont wanna turn it on, cause if it dies completely before i get my new one, i wont be able to transfer my files.

it's funny how much a turnaround people had on their thoughts on the game after they played the demo

...and this was one of those games that really should have released a demo... no one was quite sure what this game was... and i had an idea but, i wanted to see it in action ... it delivered what i thought it was and that's an interactive movie... a movie that you felt like you had control over... and critics and reviewers are astonished at what they're playing...

i am buying this but, trading it in towards the "episodes" of liberty city in late march ... that's enough time to play through it a couple of times, or more, and see what the game has to offer...

--------------------

QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

i am desperately trying to fit this in my budget right now... i am almost thinking about sacrificing the saboteur towards a trade-in... and I DON'T WANT TO!!! ... i like to keep the games i fucking loved playing so i can play them again...

*shakes a fist at rockstar games for the episodes in march*

EDIT: *shakes another fist for having to edit every fucking post!!!*

This post has been edited by bOnEs: Feb 16 2010, 07:18 AM

--------------------

QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

i think the controls work, personally... it feels different and rightly so because, this game is just different period... i am still not sure if i am getting it... i don't have the money right now... maybe next week or something, we'll see... but, not this week...

--------------------

QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

i think i might rent this game instead... not sure if i have an outstanding bill waiting for me at hollywood video (haven't been there in years) but, if i am gonna play this, i think i just need to rent it... maybe it'll be something to get for the weekend... and if i want to play through it again, i'll just rent it again i guess...

This post has been edited by bOnEs: Feb 23 2010, 01:38 AM

--------------------

QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.